Raising Lazarus

We're using the All Saints readings for our service today. And that's John 11:32-44. The Raising of Lazarus. It's such a familiar story that it seems at times difficult to find much to say about it - surely everything's already been said. It struck me as I was re-reading it, though, how much that over-familiarity takes the edginess out of the story. This is a very disturbing story. The problem is, we know how it ends, so we don't react to the cues. But this is a story of things going wrong. Jesus had heard Lazarus was ill. He seems to have had some sort of divine guidance that all would be well. He reassures the disciples that Lazarus won't die but will bring glory to God and gets on with his ministry. Then Lazarus dies. Ministries fall apart over incidents like this. Jesus, trusting in God, refuses to do the obvious, natural thing. He doesn't try to save Lazarus, he doesn't rush back immediately for the funeral. He's going out on a limb. People are questioning his judgement. When he arrives, questions about his judgement and his power are everywhere. Martha, pragmatic, seems to almost rebuke him - 'If you'd been here, he would still be alive!', but she still has faith that Jesus can do something, even if she's superstitiously vague about naming what she expects him to do. Mary, idealistic, certainly does blame him, saying again 'If you'd been here, he would still be alive!'. And now it starts to get to Jesus. They're weeping, he's weeping, and they're telling him this is his fault. He becomes 'troubled'. I suspect this is the only time he is described in this way. I think he's having serious doubts about what he's done and the cost of it on Mary and Martha and those around him. Is he wondering if he got it wrong? If he misinterpreted what God had revealed to him? This is Jesus at his most vulnerable.I'm not sure he ever doubted that God could or would raise Lazarus. The prayer he speaks exudes confidence in God's power. But did he doubt if the suffering he'd put people through was worth it? Did he wonder if it was really necessary? I think so. It's a strange picture - of one who is supremely powerful and confident, but also profoundly vulnerable, prone to sorrow and doubt. I saw two film portrayals of this incident recently: Robert Powell in Jesus of Nazareth, and Willem Dafoe in The Last Temptation of Christ. Powell's Jesus never weeps, never doubts, he seems to glide majestically towards the tomb, summoning forth Lazarus serenely as orchestral music swirls. Dafoe's Jesus is consumed by a terribly human intensity, he feels the loss of Lazarus and he calls him forth passionately, only to be overcome with awe himself when Lazarus emerges. I think Dafoe seems closer to John's account than Powell, who shows us the story we remember, but not the one we actually read.